The Lies We Live
by It Slowly Faded Away
Summary: No one sees who we are. I hide behind an image, distancing myself from others. I hide behind a mask, concealing the truth behind my eyes. No one notices; no one looks pass the outside. But we do, we see it all. Can someone look pass the name that conceals them? Pass the face? AU Fourth Year
1. Chapter 1

It was a hot, smeltering summer night. The heat completely filled people with an inner fire, but also drained out their energy. Fireflies, moths, and mosquitoes were all clustered in the air. Children zoomed by, laughing, trying to catch one of the glowing fireflies. Moths casually flew by, usually being ignored, but occasionally someone might scream, shaking their head to get the small creature out from their nest of hair. As for the mosquitoes, well, they had a lot of hands to dodge. There wasn't a cloud in the sky; each star shun out like a beaken of hope against the mesmerizing night sky. The moon hung clearly against the dark blue, almost black, blanket; a soft, pale hue radiated from the waning gibbious.

The ground beneath her feet was soft and mushy, not mud but not hard packed dirt either. The grass felt waxy and wet against her skin, making her shiver. Odd flowers were blooming in seemingly random places, each one more beautiful than the last. Ants and sometimes a rare beetle crawled over her shoe, continuing on their path in search of food. A gentle, warm summer breeze passed, gracing her pale cheeks.

No one would expect this night to be one that would haunt her dreams, but it would. Screams filled the air, ringing throughout the night. They were everywhere. Every which way she looked, there they were.

Death Eaters.

Death Eaters with their unsuspecting victims. She watched as each one was ridiculed and tortured. It was vile to see, sick; she struggled to contain the bile that threatened to come up.

Their eyes were drawn to her.

She ran as fast as she could, her heart hammering violently against her chest. Her feet slipped on the slippery dirt, not quite use to the unfamiliar texture. But she kept running, pushing herself to go in the end she knew it was all for naught.

One of the men's arms snaked roughly around her waist, slaming her up against his chest, trapping her. She screamed with all her might, praying that someone would hear her. That is, until the man restraining her clamped a hand over her mouth, telling her to shut up.

The other men crowded around him, making a grand total of four men all together. Her captive pushed her away from him, causing her to fall to the ground. Before she could even attempt to escape though, not that it would of helped, one of them bounded her wrists together with an easy flick of his wand. Tight, black ropes dug deeply into her skin. Another man knelt down and covered her mouth with a piece of cloth, tying it behind her head into her hair.

"Don't want anyone to hear, they might try to . . . interrupt us." He whispered, his lips turning up in a predatory grin.

She struggled against them, screaming against the cloth. Nothing she did stopped them. They pushed her a little bit away into a thicket of trees. She was once more hauled to the ground, skimming her knees in the process. One of the men, walked slowly towards her. He sent a spell at her, her shirt flew open, buttons flying, to reveal her lacy purple bra. The men wolf whistled as she cried even harder. She tried to back up, to run away, but she couldn't. She couldn't move. He sent another spell at her. This one made the seams on the side of her skirt to rip, the skirt hung on by a bit a thread at the top. But it was enough to reveal her matching, purple lace panties. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she cried; it was happening, this was really happening.

The man in front of her placed a hand on the waistband of his pants but before he could go further, a voice stopped him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A voice slowly said from out of nowhere. All heads snapped over to the direction of the voice, searching for the source. Leaning up against a tree was a young man. She couldn't make out his features but it was clear that he was slightly tall; tall and masculine. She felt a surge of hope burn in her chest.

"Get out of here boy, were just taking what's ours." One of the four growled but the man just merely stared at him.

"Yours? All I see is a young Veela, who might I add is not yours. From the looks of it, I got here just in time."

"Oh please, what's a brat like you going to do against four fully trained wizards?" Another one of the four men asked, his voice dripping with disgust. He was obviously not worried about the boy and neither, it seemed, were the others. But the boy just simply grinned, a grin that sent a chill to settle over her.

"Well, since you asked . . ." And with that, he was on.

He casted multiple spells at her attackers. They were too fast for her to even decipher what they were; never before had she seen someone move so fast. Each spell was casted with such power, she could feel it coursing through the warn air, making her skin buzz.

As three of the men immediately slumped to the ground, unconscious, the fourth began to run off. But the boy was faster. In seconds he was in front of the man. He flashed a grin before punching the man square in the jaw. The man stumbled back, bent over, hand caressing his aching face. The boy wasn't done though. He kneed the man in the gut, causing him to groan and lean in on himself, still standing. With one last look, the boy moved his leg and swung it at the man's head, he fell limply to the ground, unconscious. Taking a final look at the men the boy shook his head and sighed. He looked over at her, his eyes studying. He quickly jogged over to her and with a wave of his wand, her clothes were back to normal. Her skirt was restitched, shirt rebuttoned, they were also now clean, devoid of any dirt.

"You OK?" He asked her. His tone was surprisingly soft and gentle, a deep contrast from what he had sounded like a minute ago. She shook her head. She couldn't even speak, could not even thank him for what he had done.

The boy just nodded though, as if he understood, before placing a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across it. The gesture was surprisingly welcomed, it sent a warmth to settle over her. She could feel something shift inside her, settling into a position that made her question the gesture. Before she could say anything though, he spoke once more.

"Sleep," he said in a soft whisper, his eyes boring into hers. "No dreams."

She merely nodded and let her eyes flutter shut. The sensation was too overwhelming, but wanted.

When she opened them next, it was not to see the trees, but bright light instead.

The boy was no where to be found.

Gone.

**A/N: First chapter done, so who is the boy and girl? Take a guess, just my luck its probably obvious. Question though, I'm thinking about placing Harry in Slytherin, I promise it won't affect the plot(plus remember this is AU) but with the direction I'm heading this in, Slytherin will make it easier.**

**Please review, because this is my first fanfic. I'd appreciate any feedback, good or bad. Did you like the chapter? Harry's House? Questions? Suggestions? Any requests for the future?**

**Please, please, please review here!**

**I'm only 15 and any review makes my day, I will literally tell my sister about each and every one of them, though she doesn't care. **

**Again please review!**

**Please?!**


	2. Chapter 2

The students of Hogwarts stood outside the entrance hall, waiting for their arrival.

Rain poured down upon them as they exited the carriages. A few droplets found their way to her eyes, obscuring her vision for a moment.

They walked in a unified, straight line. Two per row. The wind whipped at her skirt, making it flap and wrap around her, sticking to her thighs. She had to clutch tightly onto her hat to keep it from blowing away. The heels of her shoes clicked against the stone beneath her feet, falling into a rhythmic pattern along with her fellow students.

She could feel their eyes drawned to her. The males were already being drawn in to her aura, an aura that was designed to lure in men. She pressed her lips into a hard line, but fortunately refrained from rolling her eyes. Madame Maxine did not like for her students to develop attitudes for it was most inappropriate. To her, they were all the same; boys, she had decided long ago, were all weak minded and had no sense of self control.

That is, except for one.

He stood away from the others, from his school. He was leaning up against the castle's stone wall. He wore a cloak, tied up, with his hood up, concealing most of himself. She could make out a bit of messy, jet-black hair along the top, just below the hood's shadow. His lips were set in a thin line, his sharp, angular face emotionless. His bright, emerald green eyes skimmed his environment, accessing, calculating. Suddenly his eyes met hers and she stifled a gasp.

It was him, the boy, no man, that had saved her.

She kept walking forward though, as if nothing had happened, her peers pushing her along. She tried to keep her feelings and thoughts from showing on her face, but she doubted she had succeeded. Her mind kept buzzing with one thought, a thought that was consuming her.

Harry Potter had saved her.

* * *

Fleur sat at the table second from the left, Ravenclaw she thought. She was sitting next to younger, Chinese girl who was pretty; across from her sat two other girls. One was a girl with Indian descent, the other was a girl with blonde hair and a dreamy expression set on her face.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep her eyes on the food in front of her. Ever since Headmaster Dumbledore had finished his speech and his introduction of the Goblet of Fire, her eyes had kept flicking over to the table on her left. Or more specifically, to the boy that sat over there.

He sat between two girls. One had a cheery face, shoulder-length blonde hair, and was talking at a fast rate, her hands gesturing widely in the air as she spoke. The other girl had honey blonde hair that reached halfway down her back. She had a sharp, pointed face that looked cold and withdrawn, the face of a pureblood. Fleur could see her make a few comments here and there to whatever the other girl was saying. Harry remained silent, keeping his eyes forward, but she could tell he was listening to the blondes conversation.

"Excuse me," she said politely to the Chinese girl on her right. The girl turned to face her with a smile, her black hair framing her face. She really was pretty.

"Yes?" She replied, her voice was soft and sweet, going along perfectly with her appearance.

"Is that Harry Potter?" Fleur asked, nodding her head into the boy's direction. She had to be sure.

The girl turned her head to look before turning back to her. "Oh yes, that's him." She said before frowning. It didn't suit her. "He's rather odd though."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

"Well, he stays to himself. He talks to no one, unless he has to, and even then it's only a few words at a time. He has no friends, I mean he sits with Daphne and Tracey at meal times but that's only because none of his other housemates will." She replied matter of factly.

"Plus," added the Indian girl across from her "he's a Slytherin. Almost everyone sorted into that House goes Dark. It doesn't help that he's the top of every single one of his classes, either. Everyone's convinced he's going to be the next Dark Lord."

"It's true," agreed the Chinese girl "he's even a parseltongue, just like You-Know-Who."

Fleur frowned but remained silent. The way these two girls talked, Harry was nothing but trouble. They even thought he was a dark wizard, or at least was going to be. And sure, she could see where they were coming from, but she didn't believe it. No matter what anyone said, a dark wizard wouldn't have saved her from those men.

Would he?

She didn't know what to believe. Her mind was telling her that he couldn't be trusted. Everything the Ravenclaws had told her made her wary of the raven-haired teenager; he was Dark, they said, and Veela's and Dark wizards didn't mix. But her heart was telling her he wasn't really like that. That all the Ravenclaw girls had said were entirely based off of opinions. It was all truly confusing to her.

She found her eyes once more flicking to him. He was sitting straight up, his eyes focused entirely on the plate of food before him. The two blondes next to him were still deep in conversation, not at all bothered by his lack of response. He was not one to attract attention, though she noticed many girls looking his way appreciativly. He hid in the shadows well, hiding and isolating himself from those around him. To most he would look like nothing more than a mere boy.

But she knew him. She had seen the way he had fought, the way he had acted. He may not look like much, being tall, to her at least, and scrawny, but she knew better. He looked weak, but he wasn't; he was masculine, only just, it was not in the way body builders were, not the way most men were. He had a lot of muscle on him but it wasn't obvious. He looked exactly like the average boy, and if she was correct, it was all on purpose. He looked like an easy target, but one would quickly learn that he was anything but.

His image let him blend in, much like her's had. He hid behind a calm, quiet face of an average teenager but the reality of it was, was that he wasn't. The power and speed he held while casting those spells was fanominal.

But it made her wonder. Why did he hide the confident, powerful man she had seen, behind such a . . . mask?

"He's not what they say you know," a light voice said, breaking her from her musings. Fleur looked up to see the blonde girl looking at her, her gray eyes kind.

"Who?" She asked her. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see everyone getting up, heading to their respected destinations. Her housemates kept flashing her dirty looks, which she ignored, while the surrounding boys stared at her, why that red-headed one was actually drooling!

"Harry Potter of course," said the girl not unkindly. "They don't know him, no one really does. There are a select few though that know a little bit more about him than the others, and I pride myself knowing I'm one of them. It's your choice on what you believe about him but if I was you, I'd figure it out for myself."

She stared at the girl before her. She was right. How could she, Fleur, a _Veela,_ believe anything that others had said? All her life, she had been judged and ridiculed because of what other people had either believed or said, and here she was doing the exact same thing to someone else. Someone she, or anyone else for that matter, didn't even know.

"I will," she said, smiling slightly at the younger girl "thank you . . . ?"

"Luna," the girl said helpfully. "Luna Lovegood."

"Luna," Fleur repeated. It was a pretty name. "Thank you."

"Your welcome, Fleur." Luna replied happily before spinning on her heel and skipping off to follow her housemates.

Fleur stared at the space the young blonde had just recently occupied in shock. How did she know her name?

"Fleur!" One of her schoolmates snapped, breaking her daze.

She hurried along to catch up with them, glaring at the girl who had yelled her name. She exited the Great Hall to head back to the carriages for bed but not before spotting a certain green eyed male.

Yes, she decided, she would definitely learn more about Harry Potter.

* * *

The next morning, Fleur made her way to the Great Hall, her piece of parchment folded delicately in her hand. Madame Maxine led her group of students at front, who stood in a single filed line. They were heading to the Goblet of Fire to enter their names in together. A unified front.

As she walked through the Hall's wrought iron double doors, her eyes immediately went to the boy standing near the doors. It was almost as if she had a Potter Scanner implanted in her brain.

He stood there, his face blank. He wore a black cloak over his clothes, this time the hood was not up and he had the front untied. He wore a pair of dark gray trousers, the ends of which were overlapping part of his shiny, polished black dress shoes. Underneath his black sweater he wore a pressed, button up, white dress shirt that was tucked in neatly. Around his neck he wore a silk tie that was primarily a rich, dark green that had thin, silver lines. His black hair was just as messy as it had been yesterday, giving him a reckless look that opposed his formal appearance. In the end, his hair won. His emerald green eyes were bright and full of intelligence but also wisdom. They were the eyes of a man that had seen, done, and survived everything life had to offer, that had withstood every personal hell that Fate threw at him. She wondered why a fourteen year old would have the eyes of a man, of a warrior.

Her attention was brought back to the task at hand when she realized with a jolt that the girl in front of her, Analeise, had dropped her name into the Goblet's blue fire. Fleur stepped forward and took a deep breath through her nose. She let her piece of parchment fall from her hands into the blue fire that turned red and shot little sparks out as soon as it engulfed her name. She walked off and stood to the side, next to her peers. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between the Goblet, watching, and Harry, making sure he didn't leave.

When the last of the names had been entered, Madame Maxine turned and walked out of the Hall, intending for them to follow her back to the carriages.

Fleur, knowing that at the carriages she would just be locked up in her room, decided not to go. She let all her fellow Beauxbatons students exit before her, when the last one had finally left, she turned back to the Hall, looking. He was still standing near the door. She began to walk forward, towards him. She could feel their eyes on her; some were curious, others just dazed and glazed over, but as she approached Harry, who merely raised his eyebrows at her, their looks changed. The girls, who weren't already, glared at her in envy, how dare she talk to him. The boys on the other hand either continued to be a drolling, pathetic mess or went on to glare at Harry, jealousy evident on their faces. However, if Harry noticed any of the looks being sent their way, he didn't show it, just continued to look at Fleur with his raised eyebrows and emotionless face.

"Can I help you?" He asked. His voice was not like the way it had been the night of the Quidditch World Cup, then it had been strong and confident, but now it was quiet, hushed. He was distancing himself, distancing himself, she realized, from her, from everyone.

"I believe I owe you a thank you, Monsieur Potter." She said, keeping her tone formal. She, after all, didn't know how to act around him, didn't know how he would react.

"For what, may I ask?" He replied politely. She noted his tone was rather businesslike as well, he was cautious. He was not one that easily trusted others. On one hand this was good, it showed he was not one to be easily fooled, but it was also a bad sign, for it meant that it would be more difficult than she thought to gain his acceptance. From what Luna had said, she guessed few, if any, ever had.

"I believe you already know what for." Fleur said, sending him a pointed look with a smile.

He dipped his head back, looking at her, wondering if he should respond, should relent. Eventually though, the raven-haired teen nodded his head slowly.

"You don't have to thank me, anyone else would have done the same thing."

Fleur smiled bitterly back at him, her blue eyes piercing his green ones. "You and I both know that ezn't true." He didn't say anything, the only indication that he had even heard her though was the thinning of his lips.

"Please allow me to thank you," she said after a minute.

Harry regarded her carefully, his eyes narrowed as he spoke his next words. "With what?" His words were thinly veiled with suspicion. She almost laughed at his action.

Yes, he would definitely be difficult to convince.

"How about I keep you company?" She asked helpfully. "I 'ave no where to be and you look like you could use some company. Seems fitting,no?"

For the first time she had seen him, his mask slipped. While it was only for a second, she could clearly see the hesitation.

"Well, I don't know." He said slowly, eyeing her warily. He bit the left corner of his lower lip. "I was going to go visit my friend Hagrid before the feast."

"Exceelent! I shall join you." She said happily, linking her arm through his with a brilliant smile. She saw him turn his head away, his lips twitching in amusement as he retrained from smiling at her actions.

"Alright then," he finally relented, beginning to lead her out. "On one condition though, you got to tell me your name."

Fleur smiled up at him, the boy was barely taller than her. "Fleur," she said "Fleur Delacour."

"Well, Miss Delacour, shall we?" He said, his face back into its usual way of emptiness. She wondered how he did it, but also why.

"We shall, Monsieur Potter." She said as the two exited through the Great Hall doors, leaving jealous eyes behind them.

If they would of looked back they would have seen the faces of three smiling individuals.

* * *

The walk to Hagrid's hut was in a comfortable silence. Fleur thought the grounds of Hogwarts was truly beautiful. They had many magical plants and animals that roamed freely around, though Harry had said briefly there were more that preferred to stay hidden.

The two of them across the slightly wet grass, with their shoulders occasionally bumping in to one another. Fleur found the movement rather comforting, as if the simple fact of just knowing he was there would make her happy. It was rather peculiar. She took the time and silence to ponder her fellow companion.

He was not what she had expected Harry Potter to be like. She had been prepared to meet an arrogant, foolish, proud boy that enjoyed being the center of attention, but what she had found instead was a far cry from it. He wasn't like that at all. Harry was quiet and controlled. Everything he did seemed to be planned. Each step he took was quick yet soft, soundless; he stood tense, as if he expected something to happen at any moment. His eyes danced all around him, scanning, alert. He looked like he was waiting for an attack, his whole body coiled, ready to strike at a moments notice, especially seeing as how he fingered a wand that was tucked in a pocket on the inside of his cloak.

When they approached Hagrid's hut, Harry unlinked their arms so he could knock on the door. The cool, fall wind chilled the once warm skin on her arm in a matter of seconds.

As soon as he knocked on the door, noises erupted from the inside almost immediately. A dog was barking.

When the door opened she came face to face with the biggest person she had ever seen, one even bigger than Madame Maxine. The man she assumed was Hagrid stood in the doorway, beaming. He was wearing an awfully atrocious suit that was brown and hairy. Around his collar hung a loosely tied tie that was checked yellow-and-orange. His hair was parted into two bunches that were slightly sleeked back. Fleur didn't think the look suited him.

"Harry! 'bout time you came to see me. I done thought yeh forgot about me." The giant man said, still grinning. He looked down at Harry with an easy fondness, which she was surprised to see, Harry accepted. Whoever this Hagrid was, she already liked him.

"I'm sorry Hagrid, I've been working, you know how it is." Harry said, smiling apologetically, with a shrug.

Hagrid nodded. "That I do. Once an idea enters yer head, anyone outside of classes would be lucky to see yeh. Get lost in them there books of yeh's, but no matter."

He moved to the side and pulled the door back with him, allowing them space to enter. Harry stepped back and gestured for her to enter first. She smiled at him as she walked pass.

"Oh look," said Hagrid "and you brought a friend, 'bout time."

Harry scowled at his giant friend. "I don't have friends Hagrid, you know that."

Fleur feigned a look of hurt, sticking her bottom lip out in a fake pout. "We are not friends?"

Harry, however, did not seem fased. He just simply stared at her before saying in a clear, unwavering voice, "No,"

"Well, if she's not a friend, then what is she?" Hagrid countered, looking triumphant. Fleur turned to face him, eager to hear his answer.

But all he said was, "She's Fleur Delacour,"

Hagrid grunted. "I give up on yeh, Harry. Anyway, it's nice to meet you Fleur."

She smiled kindly at the larger man. "You too, Monsieur Hagrid."

"Maybe you can break through him, the closest ones who ever tried were Sirius and Remus but they didn't succeed."

Fleur was about to respond, asking who Sirius and Remus were, but before she could, Harry spoke up from his spot near the window that he had been previously looking out of.

"Anyway, what are you so dressed up for Hagrid?" He asked, eyeing Hagrid's suit.

The giant blushed deeply before saying, "Well, I want to look good for the feast-"

"Yeah right, who is she? Spill," Harry interrupted with a glint in his eyes that she hadn't noticed before.

"Who said it was for anybody?" stuttered out the red faced man. Fleur grinned in amusement as he actually fidgeted.

"It's Madame Maxine ezn't it?" She questioned, still grinning.

"What?! No!" Hagrid protested, shaking his head furiously.

Harry shook his head at the man.

"Hagrid, Hagrid, Hagrid," he said solemnly "why didn't you tell me? Here, I'll fix you up. Sit down."

"What? Harry, I don't-" began Hagrid.

"Sit." Harry ordered a bit more forcefully, his tone stern. Hagrid obeyed at once, seating himself at the edge of his bed.

"Now first we start with your clothes-"

For the next hour, Harry and Fleur worked on fixxing up Hagrid. He looked completely different compared to what he had looked like earlier. He now wore a dark gray, but still light, suit coat with shiny black buttons over a rich blue dress shirt with a black tie that had crimson stripes on it. He also wore a pair of khaki pants and some brown dress shoes. His hair was also cleaned and combed, they couldn't do much with it so they left it hanging naturally, though now in soft, neat curls. Fleur also sprayed him with a rather strong cologne that was quite popular in France. All in all, they did good.

"We did good, Delacour," said Harry, echoing her thoughts. He was grinning madly as Hagrid examined himself in front of his mirror.

"That we did, Potter," she agreed, grinning as well. "That we did."

With that, the three of them set off to the castle where the Goblet of Fire was waiting, Harry coughing a little as they went.

**A/N: Thank you to everyone that has reviewed, favorited, and/or followed this story. To answer your questions, all I'll say is that everything will be answered. Though to flyster, I promise he won't be god-like.**

**Please review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: To the reviewer who asked about the coughing at the end, yes it was significant. Good job on spotting that though, I didn't think anyone would think anything by it. You'll learn the significance of it in a couple of chapters.**

Fleur sat at the Ravenclaw table next to Luna. A few people down sat the rest of the Beauxbatons delegation but she rather not sit with them seeing as how very few actually talked to her.

Once they had arrived in the Great Hall once more, she had noticed that Harry's mask had slipped back on. While she had thought it was odd, Hagrid had not. He had just kept walking, messing with his tie nervously as he went. Fleur could not fathom why Harry walked around the school with a face devoid of any form of emotion whatsoever. What was the purpose behind it? What, or was it rather who, was he hiding?

She turned her head and looked at the young Slytherin. He sat in the same seat he had been in yesterday. Across from him sat the girl she knew to be Daphne, who was talking to Tracey, who sat on Harry's left. Harry though was actually reading a book he had pulled out earlier from his bag. He did not seem to be listening to a single word either girl was saying.

"Luna," she said slowly, prying her eyes off him to focus her gaze onto the blonde "is 'arry friends with Daphne and Tracey?"

"Friends?" The girl repeated, her gray eyes looking imploringly up at the part Veela. "No, not exactly." She picked up one of the napkins by her plate.

"Wat do you mean?" She asked, confused.

"Well," Luna said as she folded her napkin into a triangle repeatedly, the size of the shape reducing as she went but also thickening "you see, Harry doesn't exactly have friends, except Hagrid, the gameskeeper, I think.

"The first thing you have to understand about Harry is that he tends to stick to himself." For the first time since she had met Luna, which albeit was only yesterday, she looked serious. Her eyes had gone sharp and her face no longer looked soft and innocent, more like one who promised pain if their words were not taken seriously. "For as long as I've been at this school, Harry had stayed to himself. It may look like Daphne and Tracey are his friends, but they're not. Yes they sit with him at meals, but they don't constantly hang out with each other. Those three are only seen with Harry at meals and maybe while they're waiting outside the door for class.

No one, besides Hagrid, is friends with Harry. It's a known fact here that you can't just befriend him. He is not one to just accept others."

"So, you are not friends with him either?" asked Fleur.

"No,"

"But you seem to know him so well," she said. Luna did seem to know a lot about Harry Potter and if they were not friends, then how did she know so much?

"I don't really, all that I'm telling you is what I have gathered upon observation. It may appear like I know him, but I don't. I don't at all."

Luna looked down at her plate, dropping her long forgotten triangular napkin to her lap where it began to unfold. "But I can tell you one thing," she said, her voice so low that Fleur had to lean forward to hear "Harry may not talk much, but when he does it's for a reason. Many people have Harry to thank for those reasons and that's why they stand with him, though in the shadows. He doesn't say much, but at least he knows when to say something."

"Is that why you defended him last night? When you told me he wasn't what he appeared to be?"

"Yes," she replied quietly. "Harry stood up for me on countless occasions, I figured the least I could do was return the favor."

* * *

At exactly eight thirty, Dumbledore stood up from his seat at the table, Karkaroff and Madam Maxine standing on either side of him, all three looked tense and expectant. On Madame Maxine's left stood Ludo Bagman, who was currently grinning and bouncing impatiently. On Karkaroff's right was Mr. Crouch, he was frowning and looked rather tired, bored even.

"The goblet is almost ready to make its decision, I believe one more minute is due." Dumbledore said. "When the champions names are selected and read aloud, I ask them to please come to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, a make their way into the next chamber-" he indicated a door that was behind the staff table-"where they will then receive their first set of instructions."

The headmaster then took out his wand and made a general sweeping motion around the Great Hall. All around them, the candles dimmed, sending the hall into a state of semidarkness. All around students stared at the goblets blue, white tipped flames, occasionally checking their watches.

All at once, the goblets flames turned a bright, yet soft red. It sent several sparks flying out of it. All around, noise came to a stop, no one uttered a single sound. They waited with baited breathe. A tongue of flame shot out of the goblet, sending a single piece of parchment into the air. They watched as it slowly flitted towards the ground, only to be snatched in mid-air by Dumbledore. He looked steadily at the paper before clearing his throat and speaking in a loud, booming voice.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he said, his voice strong and clear, "will be Viktor Krum."

The Durmstrang students erupted into a loud, booming applause. Some of them were banging staffs onto the floor. The Hall was filled with clapping and cheering as Viktor Krum strolled purposefully to the next chamber, his face neutral.

"Bravo, Viktor! Knew you had it in you!" Boomed Karkaroff loudly over the applause.

Once the noise had quieted down, the Hall began watching the goblet once more, waiting for its next choice. When another shot of red came, sending an elegantly folded peice of parchment down to Dumbledore's outstretched hand, they held their breathe in a collective way.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour." said Dumbledore. The hall once more erupted into applause, though not quite as loud as Krum's had been, as the girl glided swiftly to the chamber, a gorgeous smile gracing her face.

Some of the girls from Beauxbatons were sobbing with their heads in their arms. Several of the Ravenclaw boys wisely chose to stay silent, except one who was nastily hexed. The Hall once more fell into an uneasy silence that was filled with so much excitement. The Goblet of Fire once more turned red and shot out a peice of parchment, Dumbledore snatched it from the flames tips, his excitement evident.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" He called out proudly, a grin plastered on his face.

The Hall erupted into cheers louder than any of the other three. People were standing and clapping, several people clapped Cedric on the back as he strode forward. Though groans and comments could be heard but they quickly deminished upon receiving glares from the Hufflepuffs. Once Cedric had disappeared into the chamber, Dumbledore spoke up once again, smiling happily.

"Excellent! Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real-"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped talking, his gaze once more turning to the Goblet of Fire. It had turned red again, sparks flew out of it more viciously than it had before. A long flame shot out, sending another piece of parchment, before it became silent once more, the fire disappearing all together.

Everyone watched in stunned silence as Dumbledore slowly opened up the parchment. He stared long and hard at it, his bright blue eyes wide. They no longer held the familiar twinkle. He stared at the sl uo p in his hands and in turn, everyone stared at him. He opened his mouth and whispered a name no one could hear before clearing his throat.

_"Harry Potter."_

No one said a word. The Hall was in a very tense silence. All around students turned their heads and craned their necks to look at the fourth year, he just sat in his seat staring blankly. After a minute of shock and stunned silence, he stood, making his way over to the Headmaster. All at once the whispers broke out, each one more vicious than the last.

Then suddenly two people stood. Over at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George Weasley had stood up and began clapping for the Slytherin. Their loud claps echoing throughout the Hall. Next stood Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw, clapping. One by one they stood and clapped: Neville Longbottom, Daphne Greengrass, Eloise Midgen, Tracey Davis, Hermione Granger, Astoria Greengrass, Ginny Weasley, Colin Creevy, Dennis Creevy, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Blaise Zabani, and Lisa Turpin.

They were the only ones who stood and cheered for him, everyone else just stayed seated, quietly, and watched as he walked on. He made his way to the chamber behind the staff table, not once looking back. McGonagall clamped a hand onto his shoulder as he passed, Flitwick smiled encouragingly, and Snape nodded. Eventually though, he disappeared, the tall door snapping shut with an assuring click.

**A/N: There you go, I hope you like it. I know its short but it looked like a good place to stop. I'm sorry for all the grammar and spelling mistakes I've been making but I'll try my best to improve. **

**Response to reviews:**

**1. First, thank you for reviewing, whether it be praise, encouragement, or criticism. **

**2. To the whole thing about word choice, I'll try to fix it. I just can't always seem to find the write word for what I'm writing so I have to use a different one instead. As for spelling, I'm writing all of this on a Kindle at midnight, sometimes my tablet just replaces my words, or spells them differently, and I don't always catch it. I'm sorry.**

**3. Some of you are worried about the way I have written Harry to be in my previous chapters, whether it be that he's not like canon Harry or he's a mysterious hero that we don't know, or whatever. This story is AU, so naturally he is not exactly like canon Harry, but there is a reason for that. I promise you that Harry will develop as a person, you will learn the truth behind the mask, I swear. You will also learn who Harry is, because you have met two different sides to him, but are either true? This is only the beginning and I haven't gotten very far in my plot, if you don't like it don't read, it's that simple. All I'm asking is for you to read my story, it is only just the beginning, have some patience.**

**4. His years at Hogwarts will be revealed, all of his history will. I know exactly where I'm going with this story. I won't be giving it up and I assure you that all questions you have will be answered.**

**I'm sorry if you thought I was ranting in my response or acting like a snot nosed brat but I promise I wasn't. I don't mind you criticizing my work, it's helpful actually, but uf all you got to say is a bunch of crap about how I just need to take a step back and actually look at what I'm writing then just don't even review because quite frankly it's kind of insulting. I can take a lot of hate, trust me, but would it kill you to compliment my work? I mean give me a break, I'm trying here.**

**Sorry for my outburst I guess, but I'm done. Please review this chapter and if you want anything specific to happen later on tell me.**


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